


Suspension of Belief

by Magic_SD



Category: Chroniric XIX (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Just practicing my skills, Sporadic Updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29721153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magic_SD/pseuds/Magic_SD
Summary: "I've done a poor job at protecting the one I love. So, Protector sounds so far from me."He held little hope in hearing from her again, when he finds himself thrown back into the world of the Scribes. His mission was far from over.
Relationships: Elisabeth Repley/Original Male Character





	1. Left Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> This game for which I'm writing, must have a really small base or an almost inexistent fanbase. :(
> 
> There are like, zero speculations over what's going on, and with the lack of news/updates from the developers over the fate of the story and their main character... well, this happened.
> 
> As you already know, I'm writing in small pieces, to practice and improve. Feedback is always welcome. 
> 
> Now, on with the story!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last thing he remembers, before falling asleep, is his voice murmuring her name in the soft pillow.

He had been staring at the screen for an hour now; the clock on the nightstand showed 10:00 PM in large, red numbers. His gaze was fixed on the last messages that were on the device's screen, called an Arcana.  
  
He recalled the day he was thrust in this unknown world of the Scribes, when he made contact with _her._ Rescuing her from what it seemed like certain death, learning that her century was vastly different than what he knew from his history lessons, and... he also recalled something else.  
  
His chest tightened, he felt like he had no air to breathe. He never had the chance to tell her how he really felt. About her, about their adventure, about an unknown future. Shaking his head, as if to banish all these thoughts, he cast a glance at the time; it was 10:20 PM, and he had to rest.  
  
He went down to the kitchen, his mind on autopilot, as he prepared his usual herbal tea. It served him well in his line of work, as he was confronted often with the vile nature of humans, but he was doing this unofficially, like Sherlock Holmes was.  
  
A consultant detective, in the 21st century. People gave him strange looks whenever his line of work was mentioned, but he was proud of what he was doing, and smiled to himself for a moment. Walking back to his desk, he noticed the Arcana's blue eye coming out from the shutter, with a low hum, before it vanished again.  
  
Sipping from his warm tea, he felt himself relax, and turned on the radio to fill the silence with something; he didn't care what it was, music, voices, anything. _Anything would be better than to wallow in sadness,_ thought he, _I've done this for so many weeks now. It's exhausting._  
  
The voice on the radio was quite cheerful, with an undertone of exhaustion as it went through with today's news; he did consider becoming a radio host once, but the idea of standing in a chair for hours speaking of nothing but mundane things, didn't appeal so much to him.  
  
11:10 PM, the clock showed, and he went on to prepare for bed. _It's been a long day,_ thought he, putting the empty cup in the sink, _I'm glad I solved the case of the missing child. A race against the time, against people who're acting vile for the sake of money._  
  
The somber thought was banished when his eyes landed on the photograph of his family, as it hung on the wall across the kitchen's entrance. It showed him, at a younger age, surrounded by his parents and grandparents, a big smile on his face, confetti dancing in the air around them.  
  
 _My tenth birthday. I still remember that detective kit my parents bought me, while my grandparents gifted me a beautiful, reconditioned ham radio. It's strange, but the ham radio was like a souvenir coming from another time. My granddad used to teach me how it functioned._  
  
His mind inevitably drifted to what he knew of Elisabeth's own childhood, and let out a long sigh, as he wished nothing more than to comfort her that night, when she spoke of stars, dead stars and losing loved ones.

The clock showed 11:35 PM, and he went to bed – tonight, he had this feeling it was far too empty for his taste – and shuffled into the bedcovers, hoping for a dream of Elisabeth, and a chance to say things he'd left unspoken.  
  
The last thing he remembers, before falling asleep, is his voice murmuring her name in the soft pillow.


	2. An Unexpected Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Echo XXI chances upon a surprising encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to redo this whole chapter, due to dumb formatting, errors etc.
> 
> A good part of the dialogue will be in **bold** , and you'll catch on _why._
> 
> Came up with a fictional name for the city, semi-realism and all that. 
> 
> **Fandom notes:**  
>  _Corbin_ = nickname used for the main antagonists of this fandom, the Aristarchists.  
>  _Time Sync chamber_ = in Elisabeth's own words, "an Egyptian-style chamber" shaped like a sarcophagus, that allows Echoes to synchronize their Chronocodes and connect to other Echoes. It is also the starting point for an Echo that travels through time, as well as a return point fixed in time.  
>  _Arcana_ = although the name carries a tarot significance, in this universe is the main device that Echoes use to communicate with each other.  
>  _Chronocode_ = designated date & time for each Echo (in their respective century), along with their alignment (Protector, Dodger or Daredevil)

Waking up to the warm light of the sun carressing my face, I let out a loud yawn, remembering little of what happened last night, except for one thing: my voice, as I murmured Elisabeth's name to sleep.  
  
 _Her name._ Her name on my lips, became a soothing mantra, yet it did little to ease the pain I've been feeling for so long. I've tried to fill the void she's left behind, but nothing could compare to the adventures we lived through.  
  
Going to the bathroom, I take a moment to wash my face, water trickling over my skin, its coldness revigorating me. When I look in the mirror, the man reflected in it seems tired, with bags under his eyes, disheveled hair and a lack of confidence in his stature.  
  
There's no glint of joy in his blue eyes, nor a smile on his face. Reaching out to touch the mirror, I give him one long look, eyes peering beyond the thin sheet of glass.  
  
"A Hunter never gives up!" I say to him, mustering a smile. "That's what dad used to say, remember?"  
  
He reflects that smile back at me.  
  
I make my way to the kitchen and prepare breakfast, mulling over the next course of action. The Arcana's eye pops up from the shutter, and I catch a glimpse of the text on the screen:  
  
 _ **...is determined to change.**_  
  
"Well, I'm not happy about what happened," I say, drinking my tea. "I've tried for a full year to contact her."  
  
With a deep breath, I begin to read the text in full, wondering what could this machine decipher about me. _After all, it's connected to the Scribe handling it, right?_  
  
 _ **Echo XXI^**_  
 _ **Profile type: Protector.**_  
 _ **Century profession: Detective, consultant.**_  
 _ **Traits: Courageous, intelligent, perseverent.**_  
 _ **Weakness: Absent-minded (gets easily lost in thought)**_  
 _ **General knowledge: Very knowledgeable (+**_ ** _82_** ** _μ), has a portable encyclopedia (Wikipedia)_**  
 ** _Special knowledge: Knows the criminal world, has a high spirit of observation._**  
 ** _Scribe power: Temporal Loops._**  
  
 ** _Scribe Echo XXI^ is determined to change._**  
 ** _Main mission: Re-contact Echo XIX^._**  
 ** _Secondary mission: Get answers about New Mexico, 1859._**  
  
I set back the Arcana on the desk, with a shaky hand, not wanting to see her Echo registration number before my eyes. But I was, indeed, determined to get answers.  
  
"The profile is correct," I say in the silence of my room. "No matter how organized I try to be, I still get absent-minded. Thank God I haven't fallen into the pit of alcohol."  
  
I shudder at the thought. Tea, meditation, and my work have kept my mind busy, my mind trying to find a way to fill this hole in my heart. Opening up my laptop, I begin to check the emails I've received during the night, hoping for a new case, but one of them makes me spill over my tea, blood running cold.  
  
 **Echo XXI,** the title said, **I've found you.**  
  
It wasn't so much as the title that shocked me, but the _image_ on the sender's profile. A capital _Alpha_ , with a dot above, the sign of our enemies.  
  
 _They are on their way,_ I think as I recalled the words of Elisabeth's mentor, Eugéne Cyliani. _Pack the fuck up, William, there's little time!_  
  
Grabbing the Arcana, I begin to mentally go over the most important things I need, and how to delete everything on my laptop. _My backpack is filled with the offline tablet, its charger, various notebooks, money for the travels. I still need the gun, and magazine clips... and I'll be a_ _ll set._  
  
After a good few minutes, I'm standing in front of my laptop, clicking on the program named "Seth.exe" as I let it run, and left the apartment in a rush. Pushing through the large door to the fire escape, I descend to the noisy street level, while mingling with the crowds.  
  
The sound of zooming cars, loud honks, and occasionally people speaking as they walk past me, all of them remind me of how draining life in the city is. Thankfully, there's a place in this town where one can take a small break from all the rush and noise: Joe's Diner, on the 23rd Street, corner with Tomlinson.  
  
When I enter, Joe gives me a friendly smile, then resumes serving the three men sitting at the bar. Looking around, there are a few customers sitting at the tables, enjoying their breakfast as their talks seem animated, and smile for a moment as I take a seat at the bar, and see Joe's worried look.  
  
"Are you alright, Liam? You look pale."  
  
"Don't mother-hen me, Joe," I say, shaking my head, "I'll be fine. Give me a coffee."  
  
"In a rush, I see," Joe remarks, with surprise in his voice. "You have a case?"  
  
"You could say that," I answer, taking a long sip of the coffee. "It's a tough nut to crack."  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
A cold shiver goes down my spine. "I can't talk about this one. Police secrets and all that."  
  
"Ah," Joe exclaims, and purses his lips. "Well, I'll leave you to it, then. Don't forget to pay for your coffee."  
  
 _I can't tell him anything about this. I hope I can give the Corbins the slip, and look for ways to leave Rakeston City. RCPD will miss my expertise, but it's not safe in here anymore._  
  
I pay him for the coffee, and he gives me a warm smile, before I head back outside in the noisy street. Not wishing to waste any time, I run down the street, heart racing at the thought of catching a glimpse of raven-shaped masks. _If they're here–no, don't even think about it!_  
  
When I stop for a few minutes to catch my breath, my gaze lands on two silhouettes in the distance, as they seem to be looking for something – no, someone – through the crowds. I can't see what they're wearing from here, but my instincts scream at me to _run._  
  
In fact, _running_ seems to be the only thing I'm aware of – I have no idea where am I, or what time it is – but my incessant running is brought to a halt when I feel a hand gripping over my jacket. I freeze, and the hand drags me out of the main street, in a dark and narrow alley. I'm about to part my lips to speak, when the stranger speaks, in French:  
  
 **"Echo XXI^. Be silent and follow me."**  
  
 _Wait, who's– how do they know who I am? An Aristarchist? Or one of us? Thank God for the lessons in French... but it sounds a bit anachronic._  
  
 **"I shall answer your questions, when we are far from here."**  
  
"Are you an Aristarchist? Corbin? So I know if I should–" I say, reaching out for my gun in the hip holster.  
  
The person seems to have frozen in their tracks. **"Ah... he was right, you have been trained well. Tempus fugit."**  
  
"Verba volant."  
  
 **"Et scripta manent."**  
  
 _Well, at least it's one of our own. But, that means I'll have to converse with them in French... English is out of the question, great._  
  
 **"I presume you understand my language, yes?"**  
  
 **"Yes,"** I answer immediately. **"Where are we going?"**  
  
 **" I said: Follow me. Do not ask other questions. It's not safe here."**  
  
Reluctantly, I follow behind this stranger, as we go deeper down the alley. They pull out a device that resembles my Arcana – looking older and somewhat worn out – and move it over the wall, in different patterns, as if they're searching for something.  
  
As if on cue, my own Arcana reacts, and I reach out in my pocket. Its sphere comes out of the shutter, and a message appears on the screen.  
  
 ** _Secret Chamber identified._**  
  
 **"Your Arcana has reacted as well, I see,"** the stranger notices, giving me a strange look.  
  
 **"Er... yes. A secret chamber, here, in Rakeston City? That's–"**  
  
 **"What else is it telling you, Echo?"** the stranger interrupts me, suddenly.  
  
 ** _Establishing Chronocode... Echo XXI^, welcome to Rakeston's Underground Club._**  
  
 **"We are in front of a club. Rakeston's Underground Club."**  
  
 **"Very good,"** the stranger replies, and moves to stand in the low lights, hanging just above the door.  
  
The stranger, now revealed to be a woman, gives me a patient smile as she seems to be waiting for me. _Of course. I'm an idiot, where are my manners?_  
  
I open the door and invite her inside, with a tired nod. As I close it behind me, there's the sound of wall moving back into place, and exhale in relief. The woman turns to face me, patient smile still on her lips, and speaks with a reassuring tone.  
  
 **"Now we are safe. They will not find us here, you can rest well. We will discuss more in the morning. Your chamber is down the hall, to the right."**  
  
After a good few hours' rest, I woke up to the scent of toast and tea, wafting in the air. Minutes later, I joined the mysterious Echo sitting at a table, sipping from her cup of tea. Her blue eyes were studying me with curiosity, and something else in them.  
  
 **"Good morning, madame,"** I say, with a curt nod, taking the seat across from her.  
  
 **"Mademoiselle,"** she corrects me. **"But it would be wiser to call me Isabelle."**  
  
 **"I am William Hunter. Friends call me Liam,"** I answer, taking the cup of tea in front of me.  
  
 **"Liam,"** Isabelle says, trying to make sure she pronounces it right. **"I am Echo XVIII^."**  
  
 **"I assumed as much, Isabelle. How did you get here?"** I ask, reclining in the chair.  
  
 **"My Time Sync chamber teleported me here. I woke up in a large room, full of objects, some from my century, and strange machineries."**  
  
 _The museum, of course. It seems Scribes are connected to museums... but for me it'd be different, since I'm a detective._  
  
 **"What is your profession, Isabelle?"**  
  
 **"I am a writer,"** she states plainly. **"I write stories for children. And you?"**  
  
 **"I work with the police,"** I say, and Isabelle's eyes are wide as saucers.  
  
 **"Ah,"** she exclaims. **"You are a Protector."**  
  
 _Lately, I've done a poor job at protecting the one I love. So, Protector sounds so far from me._  
  
 **"What is your Arcana saying?"** I ask, bringing back our conversation.  
  
 **"At first, it said, 'Find Echo XXI^'. But now it says: 'Show him the safe places, remind him of his mission'. What about yours?"**  
  
I reach out in the pocket, and hold the Arcana in my right hand. On the screen, stand two messages:  
  
 ** _Follow Echo XVIII^, and re-connect with Elisabeth._**  
  
 ** _Your mission is far from over._**  
  
 **"I think we will be companions for a while, mademoiselle."**  
  
Later that day, we walked out of the club, and I noticed Isabelle was now wearing an explorer's outfit, reminding me of Elisabeth during our adventure in the divergence of 1939.  
  
 _Ah yes, the divergence is slowly, but surely, affecting my timeline as well. With bits and pieces here and there, hardly noticeable to the others, as they're busy being with their nose in the smartphone. Some of the buildings have disappeared..._  
  
Isabelle seemed to be at ease, as she was walking with a little bounce in her step. I looked up to the clear skies above for a moment, and prayed that Elisabeth was safe. Around us, cars were zooming past us with a loud noise, people were speaking to one another in a cacophony of sounds, a reminder of how living in a big city can be a tiresome affair.  
  
We stopped at a small Parisian-style café, and ordered a few croissants, along with two cappucinos. It felt strange to sit with another woman at a table, when the one I saw in front of my eyes was Elisabeth.  
  
 **"Perhaps we should refrain from speaking French,"** I say, looking around the café.  
  
 **"My English, as I understand, is not as refined as yours,"** Isabelle retorts and sighs. "Let us not speak of delicate matters."  
  
I sigh in turn. **"I'll stick to French, with caution."**  
  
 **"Thank you, Liam. Can I ask you a question?"**  
  
 _Well, as long as we are careful, I suppose a question or two can't hurt._  
  
 **"Yes,"** I say, taking a sip of my cappucino.  
  
 **"Do you have a wife?"**  
  
I nearly choke on the drink, and feel the searing hot liquid burning down my throat, as I cough a few times to calm down. She looks at me with worry, and folds her hands in her lap.  
  
 **"No, I don't. But I wish to."**  
  
 **"You have someone in mind,"** Isabelle says, her lips curved up in a smile, **"and she is a very lucky woman."**  
  
My pulse quickens at her words, but I try not to dwell on how encouraging she sounds. _Me and Elisabeth, together at last? It would be a miracle in itself, if I could simply hold her in my arms._  
  
 **"Well, on that note..."** I say, with a chuckle, **"do** **you have a husband?"**  
  
 **"No. But I do have a man in mind."**  
  
 **"Lucky man,"** I retort, while eating a croissant.  
  
After a few more minutes spent in lively conversation, we move on, and she leads me towards a very old bridge, lost to the state's records. But on our way there, I catch a glimpse of the two silhouettes resembling those I've seen before, and grab Isabelle's hand as quickly as possible, while hissing the word "quick" through my teeth.  
  
Running is the _only_ option, as I can't risk using my gun when I'm filled with fear – that, and I can injure innocent civilians – I can't risk the RCPD learning about this thing. It seems Isabelle understood my fear somehow, as the next minute, she's dragging me down towards the subway, making us mingle with the crowds as we board the train.  
  
 **"How did you know?"** I ask her, heart hammering in my chest.  
  
 **"Intuition,"** she simply answers. **"We'll talk later."**  
  
After a good twenty minutes, the train's voice announcer says "Leafshore Station", and Isabelle grabs my hand, guiding me up the stairs. She turns to me, with a strange look, when we reach the top of the stairs.  
  
 **"This one is harder to find, but I must rely on my intuition. Follow me,"** she says sternly, then adds, **"t** **hey are working against the Plan on two fronts."**  
  
I freeze at her words, as we've successfully given the Aristarchists the slip. But next time we might not be so lucky, and I can feel the Arcana vibrating in my pocket.  
  
A single message appears.  
  
 ** _Re-connect with Elisabeth._**


	3. Resurgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Liam realizes a nightmare changes everything, and a reunion is cut short.

_"Running from your shadows again, I see. You're afraid to face them. To face the truth she's gone," a man says, his back turned to me._  
  
 _"What do you know of me," I spat, clenching my fists. "I've been running to find the truth."_  
  
 _The man cackles. "To find the truth you say? But the truth is right before your eyes. She's dead."_  
  
 _A click of fingers rings in the air, and dim rays of light shine down over a woman's body. From here, it looks like she's in an explorer's outfit, its sandy color looking paler under the light. When I try to get closer, fists still clenched, the man glances over his shoulder, and see the shape of a mask covering his face, glassy eye peering at me._  
  
 _When he speaks again, the tone of his voice is menacing. "Your dear Elisabeth is dead, Echo XXI^. Surrender to me, and you may yet see another day."_  
  
 _"Never!" I shout, reaching for my gun. To my shock, there's no hip holster to reach in, as I look at my tattered jeans, full of dirt and... is that blood? 'I'm unarmed. 'Damn it!' I think, sighing in defeat. "At least let me pay my last respects."_  
  
 _I walk slowly towards the woman's body, as a distant hammering rings in my ears, and pick up her right hand, twining my fingers with hers. My other hand traces over her features with piety, wrenching in pain at the sight before me, tears rolling warm down my cheeks as I whisper her name, and with each pious caress my whispers turn into louder callings, until I scream in pain._  
  
"NO, Elisabeth, no!" I scream, jolting upright in bed, drenched in sweat. My heart beats wildly, and I place a hand over my chest, taking long, deep breaths to calm myself. A candle's gentle light catches my eyes, and realize it must be Isabelle, standing in the doorway. _My screaming woke her up._  
  
 **"Liam?"** she asks, a hint of worry in her voice. **"I heard you screaming for someone. Are you well?"**  
  
 _I'll be fine._ **"It was just a nightmare,"** I say, gaze wandering around the room. **"I'm sorry for waking you up."**  
  
 **"Do you wish to speak about it?"** Isabelle asks, coming nearer, and places the candle on the bedside table.  
  
 **"No,"** I say, moving away the blanket and walking past her, towards the wardrobe, decided on having a glass of water. As I was busy tugging on the dressing gown, Isabelle speaks. **"Élisabeth."**  
  
I froze. **"Oh. So you heard it."**  
  
 **"The pain in your voice? Yes. Is she the woman you have spoken of?"**  
  
I turn to face her, walking closer as she is now sitting on the bed, face illuminated by the candle's dim light, flame dancing with the draft that comes from under the door. Her eyes carry the signs of tiredness, with small bags underneath, and her lips are thinly pursed, as if she's thinking of something or someone. With a long sigh, I reply, **"Yes."**  
  
Isabelle rises from the bed and gives me a soft smile, as if she understands my pain. Going towards the door, she asks me if we could wander down the hallways of this place, as we're both awake. My brows knit in thought for a moment at her idea, and stride to open the door with a quick move, our eyes locking as I give her a soft nod.  
  
Despite being in the dressing gown, it's still quite cold in here, but it's a welcome sensation as I struggle to forget the image of Liz laying still under the light. And Alabastro's words were like a knife sunk deep in my heart, _y_ _our dear Elisabeth is dead._  
  
 _She can't be. Can't. I have to tell myself this._  
  
Next to me, Isabelle lights the way with her Arcana, her hand steady as she guides me down the hallway, muttering under her breath. But this dialect sounded a little different than the anachronic French she was speaking with me, and whatever she was saying sounded ...impatient. She stopped in front of a wall, her Arcana's light shining over her tired face, a gentle yellow like the candle she brought in my room.  
  
 **"You're a Dodger,"** I say, interrupting her muttering. **"You're used to lying."**  
  
 **"Writing stories means sometimes telling half-truths,"** she glances at me before turning back to her inspection, **"but my allegiance isn't stable as yours. Dodger/Protector, if you want to concentrate on the details."**  
  
She said something in that strange dialect, that sounded angry somehow. **"And how did you join the Society of Scribes?"** I ask, following her movements, slow and methodical.  
  
Isabelle takes a deep breath, before speaking. **"Well, it's all thanks to Madame Campan! She's a good educator, teaches children proper etiquette. I help at the her school, up in St. Germain-en-Laye, and she's my Mentor."**  
  
 **"You're not by chance from Paris, are you?"**  
  
Isabelle laughs heartily. **"Oh no, no. I'm from Montauban."**  
  
 _Southern France, then. That much I know,_ I think when I hear a low humming from her Arcana, the Eye popping from the old shutter as it scans around. After a few moments, Isabelle shows me the message on her screen.  
  
 ** _Unable to open this chamber,_** it wrote, **_power source too low._**  
  
"Fuck," I swear under my breath. "And where are we supposed to get all this damn power?! This isn't like Seshat's temple! Or–?"  
  
 **"Liam? What are you talking about...? Seshat?"**  
  
 **"I have to get back my Arcana, wait here,"** I shout as I run down the corridor, all need of sleep vanishing at the mention of Seshat. A memory flashes through my mind, while my legs carry me away.  
  
 _"Seshat!" I heard Liz shouting. "It worked! Let me send you a photograph."_  
  
 _"A Scribe temple? Powered by what?"_  
  
 _"Starlight," she answers my question without hesitation._  
  
 _"Tesla's ether," I retort, remembering our adventure not so long ago._  
  
 _"The Aristarchists might find that interesting."_  
  
"Alabastro," I spat, as I reached my chamber, "he planned it all to perfection! I'm an idiot for not realizing it sooner." My eyes dart around the room, trying to find the Arcana, but the anger welling in me makes it difficult to focus. _Where is it?!_  
  
"Arcana?"  
  
There's a low hum in the air, and I listen to it carefully, until I reach my backpack and unzip it. Picking up the device in my hand, I smile at the gentle blue light of the sphere that pops up from the golden shutter. "There you are. We have to open a chamber."  
  
Rushing back to Isabelle, I still can't believe how _stupid_ I was to not realize Alabastro meant to weaken Elisabeth. My teeth are grinding against each other, hand shaking with anger as my Arcana's blue light shines over my features, inspecting the wall Isabelle was staring at. A message appears on its screen.  
  
 ** _Follow the Plan._**  
  
"Fuck. I was right," I snarl, looking at the wall before us. "The Plan... the Plan alright, but how can I...?"  
  
 **"Your eyes... what fury dances in them,"** Isabelle remarks, trying to cut through the rage building inside me, **"is anything the matter?"**  
  
 **"No. I just need to concentrate,"** I say, while trying to kneel like the scribes in Ancient Egypt, closing my eyes in focus. But, to my dismay, none of the sensations Elisabeth described in the temple washes over me. There's nothing, except this unfurled anger.  
  
 _My mind is not clear and focused. It's too addled with the nightmare, the anger at myself, the desire to literally murder Alabastro... Breathe. Breathe, and keep your eyes closed..._  
  
After a few moments, I can catch the scent of lotus wafting in the air, and a strange energy runs down my spine, like an ice cube melting itself on my skin. When I open my eyes, there's a message on the screen.  
  
 ** _Two names form the key. Look around._**  
  
 **"Two names?"** I exclaim, shocking Isabelle, now watching me with an eyebrow arched in curiosity.  
  
 **"A riddle accessible only to you... how interesting."**  
  
 **"What is so interesting... I think you would've discovered it eventually,"** I say, looking carefully on the wall for any signs or indentations, until I spot a few hieroglyphs, well hidden in the dark. **"I will need to translate them."**  
  
"Arcana, could you translate those hieroglyphs?"  
  
 ** _Translation in progress..._**  
 ** _"Son of magic, daughter of knowledge."_**  
  
"Magic? Knowledge...? Could you search which Egyptian deities are related to these words?"  
  
 ** _Horus, son of Isis – she was said to be a patron of magic._**  
 ** _Seshat–_**  
  
"I fucking knew it!" I exclaim, and sit back in the meditative position from eariler. "Horus! Seshat!"  
  
Lines begin to shine all over the hallway, converging to form a rectangle in front of us, hues of blue enveloping us from all sides. Looking up at Isabelle, she has her mouth covered in shock, as the door forms itself before us, and gives me a questioning look. **"You didn't expect this to happen?"**  
  
 **"Not like this, no,"** she admits, when the door parts open with a rumble, revealing a part of the interior. From where I stand, I see clothes, and an altar with a statue in the center, just like in the El-Garbh temple in Egypt, or rather _1939's_ Egypt. _Now,_ _this is s_ _trange._ We enter the room, and Isabelle touches on the hieroglyphs, examining them with care, while I look at the altar. Inside, stands a statue of Horus, with holes where the eyes were supposed to be. At the altar's base, there's a plaque with hieroglyphs on it, shimmering with blue light.  
  
 ** _One is the Sun, the other is the Moon._**  
 ** _Place them wrong, your sacrifice follows._**  
 ** _Place them right, your judgement awaits._**  
  
I take a deep breath, and realize we have to search for two precious stones. Isabelle notices me fumbling around, and asks what I've discovered. Together we begin to look around the room, but there's nothing in here, except those clothes. Upon closer look, they are made for a man, but their color differs from the ones Elisabeth was wearing. _Perhaps...?_  
  
 **"Isabelle. I have to–"** I say, pointing to the clothes. **"One of the stones could be hiding in the pockets."**  
  
She understands, and there's a hint of embarassment on her face as she goes to focus on deciphering the hieroglyphs adorning the leftmost wall, hovering her Arcana over them. I make quick work of my gown and pyjamas, and then take my time with the clothes, only to realize they make out a British soldier's uniform from 1859. _It c_ _an't be a coincidence... look, it's scarlet, not green. Huh?_ Reaching inside the right pocket of the black silk pants, I pick up a beautiful sunstone, its pale color reminding me of the sun's soft rays. _Where is the moon, or rather moonstone, then?_  
  
 **"Ooh?! You–you are a Briton!"** Isabelle exclaims, noticing my uniform when she looks at me.  
  
 **"Er–you mean British? Ah, yes, my father and my grandfather were British at origin. My mother was Irish. They moved out because they couldn't stand the snobbery of their countries."**  
  
Isabelle laughs. **"What would your Élisabeth think of you, dressed as such?"**  
  
I feel my cheeks burning at the thought of Liz seeing me like this. **"This isn't the time for–"**  
  
Isabelle only laughs harder at my flustering. **"Trust me, she would find you very dashing."**  
  
 **"Ahem. Back to the riddle, I found the sunstone,"** I say, holding the stone carefully in my palm, for her to see it.  
  
 **"And the other?"**  
  
 **"Haven't found it yet. I guess it must be a moonstone,"** I say, pocketing the stone and taking out the Arcana, in order to read the hieroglyphs around, **"There must be a clue for it in here."** I start going to the right, and glance at Isabelle, who's reading something on her Arcana. My eyes go over every line on the wall, as the device is translating words like **_... above ... under ... scribe ... life,_** and many others that, together, make no sense. The walls feel cold at the touch, and I remember how Liz used to describe the chambers.  
  
 _"Ah, drat! Of course, I forgot to charge my Arcana."_  
  
 _"We'll manage."_  
  
 _"Yes, let me describe you the chamber... hieroglyphs cover the walls, all of them in vibrant colors, and there's this altar in the middle of the room. A statue is inside it, wearing only a panther skin._ _ **The goddess' name is the key**_ _, said the Arcana to us._ _"_  
  
 **"Liam? I would like to show you something,"** Isabelle says, drawing closer to me as she points at the last two lines on the screen.  
  
 ** _When the heart is pure on Thoth's balance,_**  
 ** _Place your Eye in the moon's light, and let her dance._**  
  
 **"The Arcana, in the moon's light? It must mean... but which one is it? The left or the right? And Thoth's balance..."**  
  
The Arcana in question answered my question, as on its screen appeared a message: **_Horus's left eye represented the Moon._** I immediately placed the Arcana on the left side of the statue, when Isabelle drags me behind the altar, to point at the glowing symbol of a feather.  
  
 **"But yes! The scale of purity, but I..."** I hesitate, looking at the symbol, a thousand thoughts running in my head. I let out a sigh, and kneel on the symbol, closing my eyes to clear my mind.  
  
 _I can't describe properly what happened next..._ I saw Eugène Cyliani standing before me, wearing the mask of Thoth as he held a large feather in his right hand. A scale was standing in front of me, and I could feel my entire body heating up, like a fever was running through my veins. He looked at me with a smile, as he was writing something on a piece of parchment, throwing it on one of the scale's thalers.  
  
 _"Now, for your judgement, Echo XXI^. Let the fever run, the stars will guide your heart. The thalers will speak the truth."_  
  
Stars were twinkling on the dark sky, like small diamonds, each forming familiar constellations. One, amidst the others, shone brighter... _Eridanus. And its main star, Achernar._ I fixed my gaze on the star, discerning within its glow a silhouette... one that felt familiar...  
  
 _"Elisabeth!"_  
  
 _"Echo XXI..."_ answered her voice, weakly.  
  
 _"I'm here, I'm here!"_ I shout, extending my right hand, hoping to reach and hold her hand.  
  
 _"You are... I know you are ... even if I can't reach..."_  
  
 _"You can,"_ I retort, with a strained voice. _"C_ _ome now, re_ _ach out to me."_  
  
Out of the sphere, comes out a hand, white skin looking paler against the star's light. Without thinking, I grasp it and twin my fingers with hers, her hand soft against my rough, calloused skin. _"Liz. You can feel me now, right?"_  
  
 _"Y... yes..."_  
  
 _"You are in New Mexico, right? Where exactly?"_  
  
 _"...I don't... know,"_ she slurs her words, as if drained of every single drop of energy. _"I'm happy... I heard... from you."_  
  
 _"Stay awake! Stay with me, I–"_  
  
 _"Have... to go... stay in... conta..."_  
  
There's a blinding light, and I struggle to cover my eyes from it. For a few moments, I can't tell where I am... and then see I'm back before the scale, fever still running through my veins, threatening to boil my blood. A smile dances on Cyliani's lips, as he pronounces my heart pure, and then darkness washes over me.  
  
"Elisabeth, Elisabeth, Elisabeth!" I hear myself shouting, and when I open my eyes, Isabelle hovers over me, tamponing my head with a cold cloth. She shows me the moonstone, and I repeat Elisabeth's name like a soothing mantra, with a lump in my throat as tears start to roll down my face. When I try to get up, Isabelle puts a hand on my shoulder, her eyes full of worry.  
  
 **"You have a fever, Liam, you can't–"**  
  
 **"We are close to finding the solution,** ** _mademoiselle_** **,** " I growl under my teeth. **"I remember now, Sun is the right, Moon is the left."**  
  
Hands trembling with fever, I put the sunstone and moonstone in their respective places, picking up my Arcana as I did so. In the distance, I can hear a clicking sound, and from a hole above, the constellation of Eridanus projects itself before us. It starts to slowly shift itself into two human-like forms, holographic projections. One of them, I recognize as Eugène Cyliani, but the other is a woman, and when I turn to Isabelle for questions, there's shock written all over her face.  
  
 **"But–but that's Madame Campan!"**  
  
The two holograms begin to speak to us, and I let the Arcana record the messages, my hands shaking again from the fever, while Isabelle is looking at the two holograms as they speak.  
  
 _ **It was Mentor Cyliani that spoke first.**_  
  
 _ **Hello, Echo XXI. At the time you'll see this message, I am dead, and you're finding yourself lost from Elisabeth. Do not fret, fate shall smile on you again. Now, listen to me carefully. Follow Echo XVIII^, Isabelle Juliane Lacroix, until the fourth location. They have not given up their search, and have already found the first hideout. Alabastro is with them, determined to have you at his mercy, and force Elisabeth to surrender.**_  
  
"I thought it was the other way round," I scoffed. "I'd gladly take torture than to give up anything about Liz."  
  
 ** _You'll be happy to know you haven't failed in protecting Elisabeth. Just remember, your mission isn't over._**  
  
 _ **Then, spoke Madame Henriette Campan, educator, writer and Master Scribe of the 18th century.**_  
  
 _ **Juliane. I hope this message finds you well.**_

 _ **Cyliani warned me you'll have to play a very important part in changing History, and I trust you have found the man he spoke of. Eugène assured me he's trustworthy, and bears the alignment of Protector. Use your temporal intuition to guide him along the way, the fourth location will hold you safe. But he needs to finish his mission. Decisions will be made... his timeline is slowly consumed by the divergence, but nobody observes anything. You must work together, to fix our History, and in turn, change your stories.**_  
  
 _ **They are still on your track. They need a precise date, for another event in History, for the Map is dead.**_  
  
My eyes must've widened as saucers, as Elisabeth's words rang in my head: _Your mentor will know. They ALWAYS know._ There's a pang of pain at the mention of Aïcha, as I'll never forget her sacrifice. _But wait, what's that about changing my story? Ah. One thing I know for sure._  
  
 ** _Their last words rang long after the message's transcription: Do not let the Aristarchists win._**


End file.
